Cave In
by GeneratorCat
Summary: Tim and Jason explore some caves and end up exploring their relationship. (JayTim.)
1. Chapter 1

AN: For JayTim week, day four- photography

* * *

"What is that?" Tim asks, horrified. His voice echoes and comes back to him sounding awfully shrill. The harness digs into his thighs as he relaxes into it, taking some of the pressure off his hands. It's been a long decent, and they're only about half of the way down.

"That would be a giant mound of guano."

Tim stares. Below him, rising up from the floor of the cave, is...

"Bat shit," Jason clarifies. "A lot of it. And cockroaches, spiders, centipedes. All manner of bugs, really. Even crabs."

Tim takes a moment to try and remember if he actually and willingly signed up for this, and yes, he can recall being excited for the job, but no, he has no memory of Bruce saying a damn thing about mountains of bat shit and cockroaches. Bruce had also failed to mention that Jason would be his partner for this assignment, doubtless an intentional omission. Jason obviously knew what to expect, and why he got this information while Tim didn't, Tim wants to know. He knows why Jason chose not to share it though, he can see it in the self-satisfied smirk on Jason's stupid face.

Tim looks up, to the mouth of the cave, where fresh air and sunlight await him. He looks around, at the roof and walls of the cave, where bats are nesting and dust floats through the fading shafts of light. He looks down, at the floor of the cave, which is not so much a floor as much as... Well.

But that explains the white coverall suits they're wearing, because when they get down… there, they'll be glad to be completely protected.

He thinks for a minute about backing out, turning down the job and scrambling back up the line to the surface. Swinging gently beside him, Jason waits patiently for him to come to terms with it all.

"Come on, man. I'm not gonna just hang around here all day."

Or not so patiently.

"Okay," Tim breathes shakily, but with a firm nod. He's going to do this. He'll get it done if it kills him (which, it actually might; cave exploration is not casualty free) because otherwise Jason would win. He won't have that.

And so they descend. Further and further away from dry, warm, safe ground. Deeper into the darkness and soon they both flip on the flashlights attached to their helmets. The rock wall they're clinging to is slimy and cold, even through the gloves. Gradually the sound of millions of flapping bat wings and chirps fades, and another sound comes from the cave floor. At first it reminds Tim of rain, and he actually glances up to see if the weather has taken a turn, but he can't see the surface well enough, they're too far down, and then he figures it out: the cockroaches. Hundreds of thousands of them, crawling over each other, their shells clicking. Tim shudders.

It takes an hour to reach the bottom. Tim utters a small prayer of gratitude for the ledge they land on, thin as it may be, that runs along the wall of the cave at about halfway the height of the mound. They stand there a moment in silence after detaching from their spelunking equipment, staring out at the horror in front of them.

"Gross," Tim says.

Jason looks like he agrees with the sentiment but doesn't want to agree with Tim, and so says nothing.

They get to work, not wanting to spend any more time in the place (or with each other) than absolutely necessary, pulling out the equipment they'll need. Jason sets up some collapsable standing lamps and points them to shine over the mound. The way the creatures' shells catch the light is disorienting, but almost beautiful. Almost. Light established, Tim crouches down at the edge of the rock. While still a wonderfully safe distance away from the mound, there is the odd cockroach or centipede nearby, and he is grateful again for the protective suit. He starts to shoot. Test shots at first, to get a feel for the light and and the movement of everything, then he focuses on a certain section and begins to capture the shots he'll be turning in to Bruce.

Ten minutes later he's engrossed, disgusted and yet fascinated by his subject matter, when something lands on his shoulder and slithers down his back. With a yelp, Tim rocks forward in an instinctive move to get away from whatever the hell just decided to get friendly with him, and he teeters dangerously over the edge of the ledge. Flailing his left arm in hopes of regaining his balance (the right tucked against his chest, protecting the camera), Tim finds himself hoping Jason will pull him back. Sure, he would hate to be saved by Jason, being in debt to Jason in any way or Jason being able to give him more little smug looks is the second to last thing Tim wants. But the very last thing Tim wants is to fall into the mountain of bat shit and bugs, so he hopes. Last he checked Jason was standing only two feet away, so he should be able to catch Tim in time, but Tim realises, as he tips toward his doom, it's not happening. He's going down.

With a sick thud, Tim lands on a bed of squirming, seething nastiness. It wasn't far enough of a fall to injure him, so the only damage done is psychological (Tim expects there will be much of that). Immediately he can feel things starting to crawl over him, and he tries to stand, but only gets as far as pushing up to his hands and knees before he starts to sink. He watches his gloved hands disappear into the mound and thinks he might actually be in danger of being buried and eaten alive and therefore throws all pride away and yells, "Jason!"

He gets a hum in response, and when he turns to look, Jason is standing much further away from where he had been previously, and he's pointing his camera in the opposite direction.

"I need some help," Tim calls.

Jason glances over and any ideas Tim had of Jason simply being ignorant of Tim's plight are smashed to bits, because Jason isn't surprised at all. Doesn't seem too concerned, either. Tim starts to suspect that Jason saw him falling and deliberately walked away. Maybe he even pushed.

"What are you doing down there?" Jason asks casually.

"Something landed on me, I freaked out a little and fell."

"Oh, yeah, I probably should have told you about the snakes. They like to dive from the rocks up there."

"Would you help me out?"

Turning away again, Jason brings his camera back up and _click, click, clicks_ away. "Sorry, buddy, wish I could, but I've got the angle of a lifetime here. The big man would kill me if I let this slip."

"Are you kidding me?" Tim needs to reevaluate the situation between him and Jason, because he knew there was animosity, but he apparently didn't realise quite how much Jason hates him. Which, clearly, is close to murderous levels. But he'll do that later, when he's not rolling around in guano. Since he obviously is getting no help, Tim resolves to get himself out. He pulls his hands free slowly, and tries to do the same for his right knee, but then his left sinks in further and he tips to the side.

"Can you flail a little to the left? Your shadow is messing with my lighting."

Tim doesn't answer but he sends a finger Jason's way as he gets into a crouching position again.

"While you're down there, get a close up of that bat over there? It fell in and is being eaten up by the cockroaches. Poor thing's still alive, but it'll make a great shot."

"Oh, fuck you!" Tim shouts, and it echos around them, and some of the bugs nearest him even startle away for a brief moment.

Jason sighs. "Fine, fine. No need to get so worked up, Timmy. Not like I would actually leave you down there forever."

The scary part is, Tim's not sure whether he believes that.

"Just one second..." Jason says, before he trains his lens right on Tim.

"Don't you dare-"

 _Click._

"Got it," Jason tells him proudly. "We'll put that one on the office Christmas card."

Setting down his camera in a safe spot, Jason kneels at the edge. Tim scrambles over best he can to reach Jason's outstretched arm and as he's pulled up he marvels a bit at how easily Jason is able to lift him. When he's back on the rock Tim nearly cries in relief.

Then Jason smacks him.

Stumbling a step back from the force of the blow to his chest, Tim yells, "What the hell?"

"You've got critters on you, I'm just trying to help," Jason reasons. "Or I could leave them."

"Fine," Tim mumbles, and for the next few minutes endures Jason slapping the bugs off of him, likely harder than is needed.

"All set," Jason says with a grin, and one last smack to Tim's ass.


	2. Chapter 2

"You saw it, right? You saw the picture."

"I did." Bruce leans back in his pretentiously huge office chair. Of course he did, every one at the company did. Jason had posted it on the bulletin board in the break room. "It was unfortunate, what happened, but not grounds for dismissal."

Tim fights from leaning forward; it's what Bruce wants. For Tim to come to him, and Bruce will have all the power here. "I'm not asking you to fire him, I'm just asking that you don't pair us up any more."

Bruce sighs, long and heavy, like what he's about to say pains him. Tim knows it doesn't. "I can't do that."

Can't. As if he isn't the founder and CEO and has complete autonomy over assigning the photographers.

"Why not?"

"The two of you produce the most compelling work together."

Tim doesn't believe that, but ultimately it's a matter of opinion- Bruce's opinion- and therefore inarguable.

Bruce picks up something thick and glossy from his desktop. "You have to admit, it is an incredible shot."

It's the picture. Of-fucking-course Bruce got his very own copy.

"And," Bruce continues, "the company is currently short staffed and there aren't many options right now."

Again, Tim doesn't buy it, as he knows Stephanie has been on reserve, and in fact a man named Duke was hired just last week.

"Most importantly, you are the fastest pair to complete jobs."

Now that, Tim does accept. They neither one want to be around the other, so it's no surprise they get the job done quickly. It probably is this fact alone that makes Bruce assign them together. At the end of the day Bruce Wayne is a strategist. He's practical. That it's a source of amusement is likely the cherry on top.

When Tim is once again standing at the mouth of a cave next to Jason Todd two weeks later, he decides Bruce is pairing them together purely for his own sick amusement, despite the reasons Bruce had given him.

The magazine is running a series exclusively on caves in the fall, and all summer has been devoted to capturing and researching various systems from all over the world. Tim has befriended more bats, snakes, and spiders than he ever needed to, not to mention the cockroaches, and has been swallowing down irrational amounts of vitamin D to compensate for the lack of sunlight. This time they're in Mexico, and Tim is glad to be far, far away from the grotesque pits of Borneo. The cave system they're set to explore today is vast, hundreds of miles charted, and hundreds more yet waiting. They'll be going deep into the system in search of cave crystals, the largest in the world. They're planning to spend the night inside, as it will take most of the day just to reach the cavern the unique rock formations are reported to be in. For two days, Tim will have Jason alone, and he knows exactly what he's going to do with that time.

They're going to talk, dammit.

Tim figures this will be a great time to settle things between them, as Jason won't be able to run away. The first rule of cave exploration is to stay with your group, and he is going to take advantage of that.

They've worked several jobs together since Borneo, and while the locations have improved drastically, filled with only a reasonable amount of guano and bugs, the situation between Jason and Tim has only improved slightly. Now they simply ignore each other as much as possible.

Tim is going to change that. He needs to. For the good of the job, for their own safety. For Jason, who's been carrying around so much animosity lately. He wants to fix that, if he can.

Jason leads the way into the mouth of the cave.

The entrance is short and narrow, with enough room for them to walk side by side but not much else. The ground and walls are smooth, worn down by the river that carved out this path thousands of years previous. There are creatures skittering along the ceiling and behind rocks, and some vegetation near the mouth of the cave, but it quickly dies out the further they go, and soon enough they don't come across any animals or insects either.

Tim waits until they're an hour in, at a point where they're far enough that Jason won't immediately turn around and leave. Not that it's likely Jason would walk away from a project, but Tim wants to be safe. He gears himself up to start a conversation, but when he opens his mouth, it hits him that he has no idea what to say. He hadn't planned this part, it hadn't occurred to him he might need to, but now he realises he doesn't have a clue how to talk to the man next to him. The problem is that he doesn't actually want to. He doesn't like Jason.

No. That's not true. He's angry with Jason, but only because Jason is angry with him. He used to like Jason, before, when Tim was still an intern. Tim looked up to him, and Jason was friendly.

That hurts to remember. The days when Jason was nice to him. Back when Tim thought, maybe, they could be... They would talk about photography, and Jason would show Tim how to handle his equipment, and help improve his own pictures. He let Tim follow on less dangerous assignments, always teaching. Always talking.

Part of Tim hopes they can go back to that, someday. For now he'll settle for basic, non-antagonistic conversation. Pleasantries. What people who don't hate each other manage.

He starts off small with, "Seen any good movies lately?" and rolls his eyes at himself for being so lame.

Jason startles, glancing at him incredulously for daring to break the understood No Talking rule. "What?"

"Have you seen any good movies," Tim forces himself to repeat. "I haven't. Bruce has kept me so busy lately I haven't had the time."

Jason scowls, focusing on the rock formations they're passing. "I'm sure he does."

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Jason hates reminders that Bruce likes Tim's work.

"He's kept you busy, too."

Jason doesn't answer, and they walk on in silence again.

* * *

For his second attempt, Tim tries for a less personal topic. "Did you see those shots Cass submitted the other day?"

There. Professional and reasonable.

It earns him a grunt in response.

* * *

They speak again fifteen minutes later, but Tim can't count it as a win because it's out of necessity. They've reached a stream, flowing across their path through an intersecting tunnel. It's shallow and narrow enough that they can manage crossing it, but wide and deep enough that it'll be interesting because…

"We'll have to strip."

Jason's words are slightly muffled by the noise of the fast flowing water, but Tim catches them fine. Knew they were coming. They're going to have to wade through that cold, cold water, and after they'll need to have warm, dry clothes, otherwise they'll be in danger of hypothermia. It isn't warm down here, and getting all of their specially insulated clothes wet would be counterproductive. The only way to keep safe and healthy is to take it all off, protect it from the river. He nods. "Right."

Packs are slung to the ground, and they both remove their safety helmets. Those are set on the ground with the flashlights mounted on the front facing up, the light shining at weird angles. Tim starts untying his shoelaces while Jason slips off his shirt, the pale yellow light catching the planes of his chest, his muscles moving, and Tim looks away. Once completely undressed, they pull out large, thick trash bags and their clothes and backpacks and all equipment but for the helmets are packed inside. They're ready then, standing at the edge of an underground river, naked and cold and very carefully not looking at each other.

Probably not the best time to strike up a conversation, but what the hell, Tim thinks.

"This should be fun."

Tim gets the feeling Jason would be sending him another one of those incredulous glares if they weren't Not Looking at each other. "Yeah, _fun_. So you can go first, then."

Full of regret for his chosen career, Tim heaves his bag up over his head and takes a step forward. He could be an astronaut or a librarian or an investment banker, and yet here he is with his feet sinking into frigid water. Hell, he could still be a photographer and have an easier time of it, but he had to have a calling for wildlife photography, and just had to work at the most prestigious of science publications, and so here he is, trembling with the cold creeping up his legs, showing his bare ass to Jason Todd.

And fuck, he hadn't thought of that, but now the fact that Jason is getting an up close view of his ass is suddenly the most important thing in his world, and the embarrassment pushes him to surge forward until the water is around his waist. After a moment he hears Jason follow with a splash, the light from his helmet joining Tim's to shine on the mostly smooth surface.

The current is strong and Tim fights to keep himself upright, to keep moving forward. He can see the other side, about four feet away. His steps are slow and careful but he's starting to lose feeling in his feet and his arms are straining under the weight of his pack. When a particularly forceful undercurrent pulls at his legs, Tim stumbles. He has time for one vehement, " _shit_ " before there's an arm around him, stabilising him. Tim leans back against Jason's chest and lets himself be held because the alternative is being swept down and far away, to ride the river unto his death. It takes a minute to reorient himself, to get his feet planted and his legs supporting his own weight. Tim realises he didn't drop his bag, and is a little proud of himself. He realises Jason is holding his own bag with one arm, Tim in the other, and that's a bit more impressive.

And then it sinks in that they're both naked, that Tim's backside is pressed against Jason's front, and they're actually still in a dangerous situation, and Tim isn't sure which part he's more concerned about.

When he steps forward again Jason lets him go, and Tim hustles across as fast as he safely can, with no further incident. He climbs out of the water onto the thankfully stable and solid rock floor, and keeps his eyes focused on his bag as he opens it and Jason pulls himself from the water. Quickly, teeth chattering, they pull out towels and dry off, then redress in their thermal socks and heat insulating shirts. Tim's fingers fumble with his belt buckle and he sees Jason take three tries to get his shoe tied.

Tim clears his throat, too loud in the tunnel, even over the rushing water. "Thanks."

"Yeah," Jason says to the ground. "Just eat a damn cheeseburger, kid."

"I eat cheeseburgers all the time," Tim tells him, even though he knows that's not quite the point.

"Well put extra mayo on them, that water would have just whisked you away like a leaf."

This is good, Tim thinks. It's progress. Sure, Jason is close to insulting him, but it's out of concern. And they're talking. Tim wants to keep it going, so he starts the trek down the tunnel asking, "Is that what you do? Mayonnaise?"

Jason falls into step next to him. "And ketchup."

"Somehow I think I would need more than that, to get anywhere near your size."

Jason snorts. (Tim stifles a gasp.) "You'd need heels and a top hat, then an eighty pound weight."

From the corner of his eye Tim can see Jason looking more relaxed, less irritated than he's been around Tim in months. "I'll pass then, heels are a pain."

"And how would you know?"

"Cass and I went as Batman and Catwoman for halloween last year… She wanted to be Batman."

Jason glances over, something close to amusement on his face, but the moment they make eye contact Tim can see him shut down again, like he'd forgotten who he'd been talking to, and now it's back to silence and scowls.

* * *

Eight hours after they first entered the cave system, Tim and Jason reach the cavern they're setting up in for the night. A short walk down one of the tunnels branching from it will take them to the crystals. They set up camp, two small tents a few feet away from each other, their packs just outside. A few lanterns are set around so they can take off the helmets and work freely. There's an unspoken agreement that they'll wait until tomorrow to start the shoot. The journey was long and tiring. Tim is exhausted and even though he's in better shape, Jason must be too.

Tim takes out his equipment and checks it all over, ensuring again that he has what he will need tomorrow and that it's all in good shape after the journey down here. He carefully cleans his lenses and glances over to see Jason sitting with his back leaning against a stalagmite, holding a book with a little light clipped to the top that shines down on the pages.

"What are you reading?"

Silently Jason raises the book an inch, and Tim can barely make out the title, _The Count of Monte Cristo_.

"Ah. Isn't that all about karma and stuff?"

Jason doesn't reply, doesn't look up.

"The main character taking revenge on people that wronged him..."

Still Jason ignores him, and Tim loses the resolve to be diplomatic. Now he will just annoy Jason into… something. Anything.

"It's cool how he did that, planning it out for years, investing so much of himself into it. And so much money. Didn't he find his treasure in a cave? It'd be pretty cool if we found treasure in here. Hey, what if the real treasure is each others' company and we've had it all along-"

"God dammit, Tim, just shut up," Jason yells. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"Well why not?" Tim snaps back.

Slamming his paperback onto the ground, Jason stands, and Tim mirrors the movement, putting aside his camera, though more gently than Jason did the book. "How do you not understand? Why would I want to be friends with the asshole that snuck in and stole jobs from me?"

"I didn't steal anything."

"Everything was fine and then Bruce started giving you the assignments that should have been mine. You were just an intern, and suddenly you're taking my place." Jason's anger drives him forward, stepping in close. His deep, loud voice fills the chamber, echoing violently.

"That's because your work turned to shit," Tim says, and it's. Odd. To say it out loud. He never actually admitted that to himself because Jason was who he looked up to, who taught him most of what he knows, and when his pictures starting coming out flat and uninteresting, it hurt Tim. Hurt to see his friend struggling.

"They were fine," Jason argues, but it's weak. Fine isn't good enough. "But you! You were just so happy to step in and take over."

"Someone had to work those jobs, Jason, and I'm not going to apologise for being good at it."

"What you should apologise for is betraying me," Jason spits out.

"It's not my fault you were putting out bad shots, and it's not my fault Bruce pulled you back. And," Tim yells, "It's not my fault you have some kind of daddy complex over Bruce!"

Jason punches him. It happens so quickly Tim doesn't see it coming, and then suddenly he's stumbling back, clutching his jaw that feels like it just met a train at full speed. But Jason is _strong_ , and part of Tim knows he pulled that punch. If he'd used his full strength Tim would be out.

Tim thinks he deserved that hit, a little. Then he thinks Jason deserves a punch to the face too, for what happened in Borneo, and being an ass for no good reason, and for everything, so Tim gives it to him. The smack of his knuckles against Jason's cheek reverberating around the cavern long after it happens is the only sound for a while. Tim cradles his hand and Jason straightens up, walks to his tent and crawls inside without another look at Tim. _The Count of Monte Cristo_ is still laying on the ground, and Tim picks it up and places it by Jason's pack.

Tim turns off all but one of the lanterns and goes to bed.

* * *

In the morning they don't speak. Jason's cheek is swollen and bruised, and Tim is a little proud of it. Tim's jaw hurts when he eats. When he does nothing at all. The tension between them is thicker, heavier than it's ever been. Worse than after Borneo, worse than the first time Tim got called in for a job Jason was supposed to work.

Leaving the camp and most of their stuff where it is, they set off down a tunnel with their photography equipment, lanterns, and water bottles and light snacks. A few minutes' trek brings them into a room full of crystals. Tim's first thought is of Superman's fortress of solitude. The formations look like ice, white and smooth. Sharp, geometric columns, thirty feet long and nearly the size of Tim around. They shoot out from the floor and walls and ceiling at every angle.

For a moment they stand there, taking it all in.

Then Jason steps forward and starts to set up the lighting and get his camera ready. Tim follows, some urge growing inside him. Something competitive. Right now he feels the need to prove himself to Jason, who thinks Tim doesn't deserves to be here, to be equal with him. He gets to work, taking extra care to find the exact right place to capture, setting up lamps at the perfect angle. He notices Jason concentrating fiercely as well.

Thirty minutes later Tim gets an idea. A little risky, but if he can pull it off, it'll be super cool. Carefully, he climbs up one of the columns, one that juts out diagonally from the ground up. He straddles it and pulls himself up slowly, and soon he's perched at the top of the room, with a bird's eye view of the cavern. He stays up there for a long while, reveling in the frustration he can feel radiating from Jason, who's probably pissed for not thinking of doing that, and doesn't want to copy Tim.

A total of three hours is spent with the crystals, and when they leave to head back to camp, they still haven't spoken a word. Tim is angry that they're back to where they started, not talking and resentful. Quickly the tents are packed away, and soon they're making the journey back to sunshine, back to reality.

* * *

The sun is much too bright, and Tim recoils as they walk out of the airport. It's the first time he's seen it in three days. It was evening when they'd left the cave system and pre-dawn when they checked out of the hotel and drove to the airport. Now, back in New Jersey, Tim's eyes are burning, even with sunglasses and the standard smog blanketing the sky. It's good to be home.

Jason, who he would have expected to bolt at the first opportunity to get away from Tim, is still by his side, gripping the strap of his pack tightly. Tim is tired and his face is still throbbing, and he doesn't see any reason to stay, so he grunts a goodbye and turns away.

"Hold up," Jason calls, and Tim pauses. Jason glares at the concrete. "I just. I probably shouldn't have hit you. It was..."

 _Misplaced_ , Tim wants to say.

"Unprofessional."

Tim can't help but snort. _That_ was the unprofessional part? He asks, "I have to know, why did you leave me in the pit for so long in Borneo, but didn't hesitate to grab me in the river?"

Jason glances up, eyebrows furrowed. "You were in real danger in the river, I wouldn't actually let something happen to you."

Before Tim can reply Jason is walking away.

* * *

AN: There should be one more chapter after this.


	3. Chapter 3

When the door shuts behind him, Jason realises something is wrong with this situation. As he tries to open the door to no avail, he curses himself for trusting Cassandra. That was a terrible mistake and he ought to have known better.

He sidesteps to the wide window next to the door and there she stands, out in the hall with a self-satisfied smile. He taps the glass. "Hey! What is this?"

Cass points to the other end of the room, where Bruce is sitting at his desk quietly, watching. Observing, like Jason is a lab animal in the midst of some experiment. Her reply comes muffled through the glass but Jason hears it well enough. A simple command, "Talk."

"About what?" Jason asks, but he knows.

"About why you've been such a terror lately," Stephanie answers as she sidles up next to Cassandra, handing the girl a mug of coffee and taking a sip of her own. Jason scowls. From the blissful expression on Steph's face, the coffee must be _good_. Which means she found his secret stash because he's the only one in the office that buys quality coffee. Except for Tim, but his is the dark stuff of nightmares that nobody else dares to touch.

"Come on. Let me out."

"No," Stephanie says.

Jason can feel Bruce's stare burning into him. This whole thing is embarrassing, and completely unprofessional. Being locked in a room with his boss like a couple of kids. "There's nothing to talk about," he insists. "Now open the door."

"No," Cassandra says.

Past them Jason spots Dick approaching. Likely coming from the break room, and he's holding a mug (of Jason's coffee) and looking chipper. Jason knocks on the glass again, a little louder, and calls out, "Hey, Dickie! Come help me out!"

Dick, the ass, smiles and waves, and keeps on going.

With one last significant look, the girls leave. Leave Jason and Bruce trapped in an office indefinitely. "Okay, fine," Jason growls, turning to face the other man for the first time. This is ridiculous, but Jason does want answers. He wants Bruce to know, to say, that he was wrong. He wants absolution. "Fine. Let's do this, big man."

Leaning back in his chair, Bruce rest his elbow on the armrest, his chin in his hand, and looks back expectantly. Silently.

"What happened, Bruce?" Jason asks, and he sounds like a kid and he feels like a kid. He hates it. "I mean. Why did you replace me like that?"

"I didn't replace you," Bruce answers calmly. "You're still working here."

Jason checks the instinctive eye roll. "Barely. You benched me, and now I'm not working any solo jobs. I don't need a babysitter, especially not a kid with less experience than I have."

Bruce turns to his computer and waves Jason over. "Look," he says when Jason is standing next to him, and pulls up some files. Jason recognises the images, his own pictures. He doesn't want to see them.

"I know, okay? They weren't good," Jason mumbles. It sucks to admit but yeah, maybe he was burned out at the time.

"They weren't," Bruce agrees. He points to one, "This is why I gave you some time off. A chance to catch your breath, rest up. I don't know why this happened, but you needed a break."

That sounds… nicer. When it happened, Jason had felt like Bruce had gotten tired of him, fed up. It felt like Bruce was distancing himself from Jason, abandoning him when he stopped bringing in the best shots. But like this, it sounds like Bruce… cared.

"Okay." Jason admits, "I can understand that. But why… when I came back, why didn't you help me? I obviously was still having trouble." Jason remembers when he first got hired on at the company and he was young and talented, but sharp around the edges. Bruce worked with him, helped refine his work. Bruce had been patient and encouraging, and they made a great team.

"I did help," the man answers, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? How?"

"Look again." Bruce points to another photograph, miles better than the first. "This is from after I started pairing you with Tim." He pulls up others, all from jobs where Jason had worked with Tim, and all of them are good. Really good.

He goes on, "I didn't realise you would resent him so much, or me, but you were improving. As was he. And this," on the screen are his shots of the crystals, their last job. Tim's pictures too, and Jason stares. They're amazing. "Your best work yet," Bruce tells him.

It is, he can't deny it. Probably because he was competing so hard with Tim. All of his jobs lately have been a competition, but that one, after the fight the night before, Jason had been driven to prove himself, to show up Tim, to show him and Bruce and everyone that he didn't need a partner. Now he's looking at evidence that says he does. Or, at least, he should. Should work with Tim, because it pulls out something in him, a spark, a confidence that his work had been lacking. And it seems to have given Tim something too.

The kid has always been good, Jason saw it right away, and it made him excited to work together. He loved taking Tim out on jobs, like Bruce had done for him. He loved being able to teach someone else, someone that clearly idolised him, which Tim did. More than that though, Jason enjoyed spending time with him. They were… friends. And sometimes Jason thought about being something else. (Though he probably blew any chance of a romantic relationship straight to hell when he punched the guy in the face.)

But then Jason burned out and Bruce pushed him aside and Tim was there, taking the jobs Jason should have gotten, and all of Jason's hurt and frustration directed itself at Tim. He made a convenient target, and it was easier than admitting that it was Jason's own fault, or even Bruce's.

Jason stares at Tim's photographs, the best he's come out with that Jason has seen.

Fucking Bruce. Of course he couldn't have just explained, "I think pairing you two will help improve your work," or, "I have a feeling you could be good for each other."

Bruce asks, "Will it continue to be a problem to be partnered with him?"

* * *

"I'll be so happy to never see another cave again," Jason says, although he's actually looking forward to today's project. But after that, never again will he be going anywhere near another cave. This will be their last assignment for the fall series, for which he is immensely grateful.

Tim shoots him a look, then turns to their guide. "No offense."

The man grins. "Nah, no worries. It's understandable." Certainly understandable. As they walked from the Waitomo Homestead building to the cave entrance, Jason had told their guide, Marc, a brief history of the places he and Tim had explored over the summer. Marc had been appropriately fascinated and horrified. Now he looks up, a grateful, wistful expression. "Not every place can be a cool as this."

Jason agrees. It is indeed cool. Above them the roof of the cave is lit up by thousands of stars. Glowworms, larvae with luminescent chemicals in the ends of them that shine blue, cover the ceiling. He and Tim are sat on wooden benches in a small boat that could hold maybe a dozen total. Marc is perched on the stern by the engine, which is turned off at the moment so that Jason and Tim have time to photograph all they need. The river is calm and slow, and the boat drifts at an easy pace.

They get to work, cameras pointed upward. For a long while they don't turn on any additional lighting, just capturing the blue of the glowworms. Jason takes a few shots of the water, the way the lights reflect on the still surface. Marc talks about the insects, either because it's a habit, as usually he would be reciting these facts to his tour guests, or because he genuinely loves them, and simply wants to talk about them. Eventually he falls silent, and the only noise is the gentle lapping of water against the boat and the occasional shuffling as Tim and Jason shift into better positions, better angles.

They bring out lamps and carefully stand up to get closer to the roof to photograph the webs. Like spiders, glowworms make webs to catch prey, but these are lines dropped from the ceiling, strings of sticky, beaded mucus. They look like suspended rain drops, and Jason nearly gets his hair caught in some when he ventures too close.

That done, they sit again, getting the last shots for the day. A few minutes later Jason asks, "Hey, Tim?"

"Yeah," Tim acknowledges distractedly.

"I'm sorry."

It takes a minute, Tim still focused on the glowworms through his camera, then finally he lowers it and looks down, over to Jason with raised eyebrows. "Really?" He glances at Marc quickly. "You wanna do this _now_?"

"Yes."

"We have work to do." And yet he keeps his camera snug in his lap.

"We're pretty much done." Jason won't say that he finds the setting romantic, and in fact it reminds him of the _Kiss the Girl_ scene in _The Little Mermaid._

Jason adds, "And we have plenty of time." Bruce had booked Waitomo Glowworm Caves for the entire day to ensure they had enough time. Whereas usually there would be a tour every half hour, theirs is the only one scheduled. An easy day at work for Marc.

"Jason," Tim sighs, and it's a little irritated and resigned and wary and (Jason might be reading too much into it, but he thinks he hears) hopeful.

Marc clears his throat. "You guys need a minute?"

"Yes," Jason says as Tim says, "No."

"I'm just gonna..." Marc pulls out his phone and slips in a pair of earphones. He even shifts so he's facing away as much as he can while still keeping an eye out for where they're heading. Jason wants to give the man a hug. He will later.

Jason rests his camera on the floor of the boat and climbs over the bench separating him from Tim, settling on the plank Tim is on, a couple short feet between them. "I'm sorry," he says again.

Tim looks to the side, watching the slick rock wall as they pass by slowly. His fingers tap against the side of his camera, lips twisting. He asks, "About what?"

Jason knows Tim knows what they're talking about. He knows Tim is asking to make sure Jason's sorted it all out. That he doesn't just feel bad, but that he understands what went wrong and what exactly needs to be fixed.

"I shouldn't have lashed out at you. It wasn't you I was mad at, and I'm sorry for treating you like that. We were. Friends. And I pushed you away when I was going through some shit because it was easier."

Slowly, Tim nods. He says quietly, "I put you on a pedestal with unreasonable expectations and when you were down, I... left you there. When you got mad at me I just got mad back. But you were an ass."

"I was jealous and hurt."

Finally, Tim looks up at him. The soft light from above and the reflections from the water below paint twisting shades of blue across his skin. "And now?"

"Now I can't think of working with anyone else."

Tim smiles. It's small, tentative. But there. "Oh yeah?"

"Bruised faces aside, my pictures have never been better, thanks to you."

"Don't give me credit for that," Tim insists, shaking his head firmly. "You worked hard. _You_ did."

"Thank you," Jason says softly. "But it does make a difference, being with you. I had a job a few days ago, my first solo in months. My work was good, something I could be proud of, but still. It wasn't as good as when I'm with you."

"It." Tim's grip on his camera tightens. "It was probably just from being rusty. Going solo for the first time in so long."

Slowly Jason reaches over, gingerly takes the camera out of Tim's hands and sets it down. "That wasn't it, Tim."

Jason slides closer and Tim asks faintly, "You sure?"

"Positive." Jason is straddling the bench, one leg to either side, and he gently, steadily, pulls Tim toward him. Reels the man into his lap slowly enough that he could object or move away, if he wanted. He doesn't. "I'd like to keep working jobs with you, if that's okay."

Tim laughs, soundly vaguely crazed. "Yeah, that's okay." So close now, with Jason's hands on his back and leg, and Tim keeps his eyes on Jason's. "Are you going to kiss me?"

"Yes. If you'll let me."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"I mean," Tim says clearly, almost glaring. "Do you like _me_ , or do you like how your pictures come out with me around?"

"I like both, but I'm not trying to kiss my photographs."

Tim rolls his eyes.

"Tim, I like that you bring out something amazing in my work. I like that you punched me back. I like how excited you are over photography, how much you love what you do. I even like that you told everyone where to find my good coffee- yes, I know that was you. You're smart and brave and. And beautiful. I like _you._ "

"Okay," Tim states.

"Okay?"

"Yes, now get on with it."

"Well, all right then." Jason grins, then leans in and kisses Tim.

Some time later Marc clears his throat, and the two pull away, blinking up at him. "Sorry, we got to the end of the tour path."

Jason asks, "You think we could go through again? Like, at normal speed, just to enjoy the tour?"

"Sure." Marc shrugs. "You've booked the whole day anyway. Go as many times as you like."

Tim twists around so that his back is cradled against Jason's front. He relaxes into Jason's hold, arms wrapped around him. He says, "Caves aren't so bad."


End file.
